


a little odor that to me is metre

by queerwatson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerwatson/pseuds/queerwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of disturbing things Jane is almost used to coming home to. Sherlock leaning over a cauldron isn't one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little odor that to me is metre

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write a three sentence au for a prompt on tumblr and this just sort of happened. Disclaimer that these aren't all necessarily my favorite headcanons but it all just fell into place and I went with it. Title credit to Emily Dickinson.

Once she’d been living at 221b long enough, there were a variety of things that Jane could have come home to find Sherlock doing that wouldn’t have surprised her at all. These now included: draining body parts, dissecting something awful looking, participating in any kind of unpleasant chemical experiment, and a variety of other horrifying things.

Instead, on this particular afternoon, Jane came home to find Sherlock leaning over a cauldron, which surprised her for several different reasons.

“Is that a cauldron?” she asked. It wasn’t a very creative response, but Jane was feeling a little too dumbfounded to respond any other way. Sherlock looked up, and Jane found her looking somehow surprised, guilty, and sheepish all at once.

Sherlock blinked. “I thought you weren’t going to be home for another hour at least.”

“I got off work early.” Walking over, Jane noticed a few familiar characteristics - a notable sheen, recognizable spirals of steam. Then she caught a sniff of the potion, found it smelled vaguely like Sherlock, and blushed. “Is that Amortentia? What are you doing with Amortentia? And since when are you…”

Sherlock looked just as surprised as Jane felt.

“You’re not a muggle.” Her tone was vaguely accusatory. Jane almost laughed, but she was still recovering from the shock.

“Neither are you, apparently. But you didn’t go to Hogwarts. That does surprise me a little.”

“I went to Beauxbatons. Family legacy.”

Jane nodded, and swallowed. It was a lot to take in. “Still doesn’t tell me why you’re brewing Amortentia in the kitchen.”

This time Sherlock blushed. Jane licked her lips, but tried very hard not to stare.

“I was… testing a theory. I’m not going to use it.”

“I should hope not.”

Sherlock shook her head and put a cover back on the cauldron, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to see what it smelled like. As I said, testing a theory.”

“The theory being you’d… smell case files? Or the actual potion? What?”

Sherlock’s blush deepened, which was absolutely fascinating. “No. Unfortunately. I’m afraid I have a… situation. So. I was checking, and apparently I was right.”

Jane felt something drop in her chest and nodded, looking down at the floor. “So you… have feelings for someone. And you thought maybe you did, and thought this would be a good way to check?”

“It’s been a while since I worked with potions, it’s essentially chemistry, I’m equally fond of both.”

That was a bit of a deflection, but it answered what Jane had been thinking, which was that Amortentia wasn’t exactly easy to make. “Proved you right, then? That you have feelings for someone? The person you thought?”

“Yes.”

Nodding again, Jane looked around the kitchen for something to do and only found the cauldron. “Do you want me to dig out my wand and take care of that, or are you going to?”

“I might… keep it for a bit. It smells nice.”

Jane swallowed. “Yes, that’s true.”

Sherlock’s gaze sharpened a bit, and Jane could practically feel it. She looked back down. “It smells like someone for you as well.”

“Is that a surprise?”

When Sherlock spoke again there was disgust in her tone, and Jane winced a little internally. “One of your boyfriends?”

She could lie - but at least at this point, there wasn’t really any use. “No. No, that’s not it. It’s not anyone I’ve dated. If it was I’d probably still be with them, yeah?”

“Who, then?” There was genuine curiosity in Sherlock’s tone, but Jane just shrugged.

“Who’s it smell like for you?”

There was silence. Jane knew they were at an impasse. “It’s just. Someone. Someone I know. It hardly matters. She isn’t interested.”

Jane looked up quickly, and found Sherlock just watching her. “You said she?”

“You didn’t know that?” Jane shook her head. “I thought that ‘boyfriends aren’t my area’ was fairly blatant.”

“You also said you were married to your work, I didn’t really know what to think.”

Sherlock lifted one shoulder and let it drop again. “Well. Now you do know. I’m a lesbian.”

Trying not to look excited, but also trying not to go too far the other way and grimace on accident, Jane nodded. “I’m… bisexual. Just for the sake of sharing.”

Again, Sherlock looked surprised. “You’ve managed to conceal quite a few things from me, apparently.”

Jane grinned. “Only the witch bit was intentional. I couldn’t tell.”

“I usually can. Why couldn’t I?”

Shrugging in response, Jane finally sat down on a stool at the kitchen table. “I haven’t used magic in a long time. After school I was going to be a healer, but I got a bit bored. Which sounds… awful. But there are limitations to the wizard world. It’s a small world, sometimes. So I went into the muggle army. My da was a muggle anyways, he was in the army, so he thought it was good for me. I couldn’t do magic there, obviously, except in absolutely dire circumstances if no one was looking. I got used to living without it. And what’s there to use it for except domestic stuff? I’m not at school anymore, I’m not around other magic users, all I could do would be cook or clean a little faster, and for a while… when I got back from Afghanistan I actually struggled. Then I moved in with you, I knew you’d figure it out. I don’t know. There weren’t any traces, is what I’m getting at. There’s no reason you should have figured it out.”

“You prefer doing things the muggle way?”

Again, Jane shrugged. “It’s only a bit more work. It’s hardly that different. Magic takes effort too and I have to dig out my wand and make sure no one sees. What’s the point?”

Sherlock nodded. “Isn’t one of those Hogwarts houses all about hard work and patience?”

Jane laughed, and looked down. “That would be Hufflepuff, the one I was in. So, yes.”

Smirking a little, Sherlock moved over to the chair next to her and sat down, too. “Appropriate, then.” There was a pause, and Jane tried to think of something else to say, but Sherlock spoke again instead. “I prefer muggle science most of the time. Technology is fascinating, and still something plenty of magic users stick up their noses at. My family was infuriated when I decided to go to a muggle University to continue my studies and learn enough to become a detective instead of going into some kind of magical career. It was a bonus to doing what I wanted to do.”

Snorting, Jane nudged Sherlock a little with her elbow. “So your whole family is magical, then?”

“Mm, unfortunately, yes. Yours? You said your father wasn’t. But was your mother? Or your sister?”

“Mum was. Harry was a squib.”

“Is that why you didn’t get along?”

“Part of it.”

The conversation paused again, and Jane looked back at the cauldron. “You’re not gonna tell me who it smells like, huh?”

“I think that would be… unwise.” Sherlock stood, and straightened her shirt a bit. Jane was distracted for a moment, watching her hands work on her cuffs.

“You don’t… I mean we both know, though, obviously, that you can’t control who you have feelings for. Right? So why don’t we just say it? I’m a little worried mine will bother you, too, but if anyone would understand falling into something like this unintentionally, apparently, it would be you.”

Sherlock tilted her head. “Why do you think it would bother me?”

Her mouth feeling dry, Jane licked her lips and swallowed. “Because I don’t think you’ll appreciate who it is. Just. I think it might make you uncomfortable.”

“Is it my sister?”

Jane knew she instantly made a face, and it was obvious that Sherlock relaxed again as a result.

“If it isn’t Mycroft, I don’t care. I may not like it, but as you’ve said. I’m hardly one to judge.”

“You can’t… think of anyone it could be that could make you want me out of the flat?”

“Why would I want you out of the flat?” Her voice seemed genuinely concerned, like the very idea was unimaginable, and it was that which pushed Jane forward, even past the sticking in her throat.

“Cause it’s you.”

There was a long silence. Jane had turned her gaze back to the floor to speak, terrified of looking at Sherlock’s face, but now she stood and turned, and found Sherlock staring at a spot in the wallpaper, blinking rapidly. It was a reaction Jane had seen once or twice before. She privately called it the startled owl. It was sort of adorable, even if it made her a little worried.

“Sherlock?”

After blinking a few more times, Sherlock looked at Jane and cleared her throat. “Did I… say anything?”

Jane fought a smile. “No.”

“Right. Well. Ah. It’s… you. You were the… I don’t mind at all.”

The grin was breaking over her face. Jane bit her lip. “So you have feelings for me too?”

“Yes. I do. Yes.”

The awkwardness was painfully sweet, and utterly Sherlock. Going over, Jane held up her hands hesitantly, watching Sherlock for a reaction, and when nothing happened, Jane asked out loud, “Do you mind a hug?”

Sherlock shook her head, and Jane pulled her close, wrapping arms around her waist. She pressed her face to Sherlock’s collarbone and snuggled close. After a moment, she felt Sherlock’s head resting on top of her own, and she felt as much as she heard Sherlock inhaling deeply. Jane smiled.


End file.
